Voice of the people (letter).

Homer's Lessons

HIGHLAND PARK — I have so many favorite memories from the last 100 years, including the following:

- Lake Michigan shimmering in the sunshine as I headed home to Hyde Park after working all night.

- The Wrigley Building at night from 55th Street and South Lake Shore Drive--my mother called it "the white swan."

- Waves lapping at rocks around the Promontory at 55th Street when I was 14.

- A red-orange setting sun seen through smoke from the Illinois Central roundhouse at 28th Street.

- The Lindbergh Beacon sweeping stars from the sky.

- Summertime smells from the stockyards, borne by a west wind.

- Shrill whistles from South Shore steel mills at 7 a.m. and at midnight every New Year's Eve.

- Sounds the switch-engine made in the Englewood yards on nights I couldn't sleep.

I have tons of memories, and I suppose everyone does who was born and raised here and spent most of his or her life here. At my age, people remember a lot about the past.

So here's one memory that taught me a lesson about life. The year was 1938. Gabby Hartnett, Cub catcher, became manager in the late spring or early summer, when the team was well out of first, and led it back to challenge the Pirates for the top spot in a crucial series in Wrigley Field with less than two weeks to go in the season.

In those days single games started at 3 p.m. My cousin Tom and I were at one of those games, sitting in the mezzanine. As dusk fell, the game reached the ninth inning, score tied, umpires huddled to consider whether to call the game because of darkness. They decided to play one more inning.

It's the bottom of the ninth, two out, Hartnett up, two strikes on him, he hits one over the left field wall.

We win. Pandemonium throughout the city. The Cubs are in first. They go on to win the pennant.

Hartnett was a hero, but his homer meant much more to Depression-weary Chicagoans. It showed them they could do anything if they set their sights on it.

We climbed back from the Depression. We overcame violent labor strife. Now this.

Today, oldsters still recall the thrill of that homer. But there's a lesson in what followed. In the World Series, the Cubs dropped four straight to the Yankees.

Over the winter, Gabby traded away half the team's best infielders to the hated Giants and Dodgers. The team has never been the same.

Gabby retired and opened a bowling alley on Lincoln Avenue. For years it had his name on it. But then he died, the name disappeared, and now the building is gone.

Fame and the famous are indeed ephemeral.

Chicagoans are truly blessed. As long as we possess the "I will" spirit, each generation will have its own inspirational heroes. We have memories of Sid Luckman fading back to pass, Ernie Banks fingering a bat, Bobby Hull slapping a puck into a net for an overtime victory, Gale Sayers eluding tacklers, Dick Butkus, Walter Payton, Michael Jordan, to name a few.

But Gabby Hartnett showed us how to win and taught us you can't rest on your laurels. There's always a new challenge. You have to keep on trying to keep on winning.

That's what he taught an 11-year-old boy and that's why I remember him to this day.